


Mourning in the Morning

by ijustwantsomesoup



Category: BABITIM, Babtqftim - Fandom
Genre: Depression, Ha! It’s not Felix this time! I finally wrote someone else!, He got that mr stark I don’t wanna go vibe basically, Ink illness, he got that summertime summertime sadness, he’s sad the end, or somewhat depression more like depressing thoughts, sorry - Freeform, talk of death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:29:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22756309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ijustwantsomesoup/pseuds/ijustwantsomesoup
Summary: Anytime Bendy addresses his potentially inevitable death it’s with anxiety. Anxiety for his friends and family. As to what they’ll do without him.Now that he has a minute to ponder, with nothing else pressing on his mind, he addresses his demise from another angle. An angle of grief.Aka ‘real crisis hours who up?’
Comments: 12
Kudos: 35





	Mourning in the Morning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ThisAnimatedPhantom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisAnimatedPhantom/gifts), [Mercowe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mercowe/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Bendy and Boris in The Inky Mystery](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10726146) by [Mercowe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mercowe/pseuds/Mercowe), [ThisAnimatedPhantom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisAnimatedPhantom/pseuds/ThisAnimatedPhantom). 



> Guess who’s back got one foot in the grave bois I’m just testing the water y’know. Toaster in the bath if you catch my drift ;). Nah it’s chill tho.
> 
> Here is not Felix finally I broke free from his curse of being a fascinating character to write. This is Bendy vibin in the sad feels at like 3:00am. Y’know. You’ve seen him anxious over his death but what if he took a moment to accidentally trip and fall into the slip and slide that is despair.
> 
> This is probably a mess but so am I *finger guns*
> 
> Ew I apologise that was awful aight go for it.
> 
> And congrats on Inky Mystery hitting 1,000,000 words! It’s been a wild ride. So thrilling to see it grow and evolve. I’ll never be able to thank you all enough.

Bendy rolled over with a drawn-out sigh. This was so stupid. 

After the previous day's brutal attack Boris had insisted he stay in bed. To Bendy's distain, the entire cussing house had backed the wolf up. So, head bowed in irksome defeat, he'd taken his leave. And slept. The whole day. 

Now, in the ungodly hours of the morning, he was wide awake. 

Of course.

He shot Boris' sleeping form an annoyed glance. This is why he shouldn't have slept during the day, Boris. Now here he lay with no ability to act on all the energy he had.

So naturally, he applied it to thought. 

And that was fine. He thought about all the things he really ought to get to. New runes he would be best off memorising, courtesy of Felix. Hat's stardust assignments. Ugh. He suppressed a groan at the thought of those. 

Thinking was fine. There was nothing negative about it. The only thing that got to him was the fact he was laid there wasting precious time. He would much rather that time spent on tinkering with equipment for their next outing, or giving the map stares that could burn holes in the useless thing. He smiled. The last time they'd done that, it had gotten so monotonous it had sparked him and Boris competing in a staring competition with each other. Mugs had discovered them, both leant over the map yet neither looking at it, inches from each other's face. Bendy hadn't been able to see his face but he could imagine the expression was potentially priceless. The competition had ended with Boris cheating. He had huffed air in Bendy's open eyes causing the need to blink rapidly and Bendy's subsequent downfall. The demon's shook his head at the memory of his brother's smug grin. Cheeky pup.

He rolled onto his back, grimacing as the bed creaked with the sporadic movement. He glanced quickly to his brother, praying he remained slumbering. He'd rather not be on the receiving end of Boris' concern if the pup awakened. To his elusive luck, Boris slept on. He sighed in relief, his gaze meeting the ceiling. 

He hoped this didn't mean inevitable exhaustion the next day. 

He couldn't afford to be tired. It could mean his end. What a stupid inconvenience. He rolled his eyes. 

Maybe he could get the doc to hook him up with something that would restore energy. Not that cursed egret-serum garbage. He had to have something different. Surely.

Despite acknowledging the ink machine was their best chance of a cure, the doc continued his search for a different one. Though he seemed to have devoted a matter of his time to medicine to help the side-effects of ink illness rather than ridding victims of it entirely. That way, he expanded lifespans since a cure would not be accessible for sometime. 

From what Bendy understood it was certainly a risky move. Shifting his focus from finding a cure to other work, even despite it improving quality of life, was potentially deadly. That way, he placed all trust in the ink machine and sacrificed the possibility of finding a faster cure. 

Or that's what the man himself had claimed at least.

Bendy was curious as to why he hadn't been offered medicine such as that. Perhaps he wasn't as bad off as Oddswell insinuated.

Or perhaps he was a lost cause. Bendy scoffed. That did sound like him, didn't it? The orphanage had always made sure he knew so.

The orphanage.

...

He glanced over to Boris in pondering. They'd come so far. 

Talks of their future had never consisted of anything this wild. If anyone would have told his younger self that this was to be his life he wouldn't have hesitated to call a bluff. Hell, even now he called a bluff. Perhaps this was all a wonderful dream. 

However, finally having a life as glorious as this yet being on the cusp of dying was not so wonderful. This was a nightmare then? 

It was a joke. Having found somewhere he felt included. Loved. Somewhere he could call home but he was cursed to loose it all. If he were to die, he would die unable to ever see Boris' future, just as Finley had been unable to see Sammy's. Would the ink machine ever be built? Would all their hard work be dashed by the angels? 

_Alice_. He smiled sadly. He doubted he would ever get the opportunity to love her freely whether he survived or not.

...Boris' future.

He lifted a hand to rest a-top his head.

He would never get to see the pup grow. Not entirely. Never see him smile again. Never hear him play a gleeful tune on his beloved clarinet again. Never set up that shop they had been so giddy over.

They'd never build that house by the lake together. The thing they had dreamed about so regularly, so vividly it had become palpable in his mind. They'd mapped every detail, from the colour of the sofa to the slant of the roof. Bendy could picture it all. The creak of the door as you would enter that would soon become familiar. The dust that would pile in the corners. The cracks in the paint as the building grew old. All the things that made it home. 

Cup had mentioned a future in which they all stuck together. 

It wasn't just Boris' fate. He would never see them all together. Never live in that house they had built. Never piss Cup off again. Never wake to hear Boris and Mugs chatting as they made breakfast. Never hear the wind against the walls of the house. Never see how it would withstand the winter. Never see any of it. 

He dragged his hand over his face to rest on his cheek.

He'd never go another week without an attack. Perhaps never another day. 

He'd never venture with his idol again. Never read another one of his books. Never have his hair ruffled affectionately. 

What would he miss out on? What would it all look like after he left them?

His family.

He rolled onto his side once more, away from Boris.

What was this? He'd always felt fear. Anxiety over what his brother would do after his passing. How he'd move on. Whether or not the ink machine would ever be. 

But now his chest ached, his limbs felt on fire with grief. It burned. His shoulders were crushed under the weight of his emotion. In every instance in which he had pictured his passing he had imagined what the others would loose. What they would do. Not to mention he hadn't even dared to think of anything past the first couple weeks of his absence. But this time was different. 

He grieved for all _he’d_ loose. Himself. For the future he had dreamt about so intensely. It had been his driving force. It had gotten him out of bed without any sleep countless times. It had motivated him to sprint marathons on an empty stomach of multiple days. His and Boris' future. Now his and the questers' future. His and the house's future. Maybe it would have been better if he'd never met them? 

In that moment it seemed it; anything that eased the pain of his loss of a future.

He loosely brought his hand in front of his face. He studied it, deep in his heartache.

Suddenly he didn't feel so energised. 

He mourned the days he'd loose. The memories he'd never make. The laughs they'd have. All unfairly snatched. 

He threw a tantrum at it all. He asked all the ridiculous cliché questions. _Why him? Why this? Why?!_

Was this what Boris saw? What he thought of every time Bendy brought up the topic? The dreaded 'd' word. And Bendy had scolded him, irritated at his unwillingness to address it. His childlike nature. He scoffed pathetically. Who was he to talk now?! 

He sighed shakily, verging on whimpering. He got it now. Why the wolf didn't let him mention the word. If this was what he felt.

Time was precious. He didn't want to sleep another minute. He wanted to devote every waking second to being with his family. Being joyous with them. But how was he to be joyous ever again if he was consistently reminded of the future that hung in the balance. The future that had a heavy lean to the left, if left stood for 'left unattended'.

Alice would have liked that one. Maybe. He smiled bittersweetly.

Was this why Finley had been so downtrodden? 

Felix had promised they'd save everyone and Bendy trusted him with every fibre of his being.

But Finley was dead. So was Snow. Sneezy. Steven. And so many more.

Who knew how much longer he had to smell Granny's cooking. To listen to the buzz of the breakfast table. _Cuss_ , even the tense mornings! The one where they were at each other's throats. 

His rune lessons. Felix smiling at them proudly when it finally clicked. 

Jerry's painful whinging. 

The warm presence the girls brought into the equation. 

Holly's questions. 

Cala and Mugs' awkward gushing. 

Even the Warners. 

Wiston's multiple attempts at arson. Xedo's facepalms and pained expressions. Red's chuckling. 

Christmas morning. He wanted everyday to be like that. He wanted to freeze time. To remain there. That perfect, perfect day. 

The house was so terribly quiet. 

Would it be this quiet when he finally met his end? 

He couldn't think about this anymore. This hurt. It hurt so bad. He wanted to scream but all he could do was sigh in agony.

His vision rapidly blurring and throat tightening, the demon clenched his eyes shut in mental turmoil. Sobs nagged at him and the horrendous notion of helplessness only egged them on. He scrunched his face up, seizing handfuls of his hair.

_His family. His home._

He'd miss them so.

**Author's Note:**

> Wanna make it sadder? 
> 
> Alternative ending: Bendy doesn’t make it till morning. The sorrow and stress of leaving it all behind sparks an attack. His somewhat sleep deprived brain makes it so he doesn’t survive. 
> 
> That might be a little dramatic but angst.
> 
> Also please tell me someone else does the hand thing when they’re having a depression session. I tried to base mannerisms on the weird rubbish I do when I feel like it’s all falling to pieces but I might be completely insane. Sorry. Time to stop rambling.


End file.
